The World's a Cage (Kilgrave x OC)
by CrystalAris
Summary: Being a good girl was my whole world. Forever locked in a permanent cage, one man had the power to set me free. What surprises me the most is how much others seem to fear and hate him. Why? He's no less human than anyone else I've come to know. Maybe I'm just being a Negatory Nancy, but how can he be the Monster when They are the True monsters?
1. So You Want to Know?

Ch 1 So You Want to Know?

It's funny how some things you remember and other things you don't. Some call it selective memory. At least that's what others have told me. I, on the other hand, call it life.

Interesting enough, I don't remember everything. Like right now, for example. I somehow woke up tied in a dirty room. ...well not really tied ...more like handcuffed to a random pipe in some freezing cold, concrete basement. And lucky me, There's a single metal chair in the far corner while I'm stuck here on the floor. A metal drain lying only a few feet from me. I can't help but scoff silently at the thought it might be for 'accidents'.

Waking up in a bleak room... Ha! It sounds like a joke. Maybe it is. Seeing as this type of thing only happens to victims in crime shows. Held captive, tormented, killed, you name it. But then again how could this be a joke? Someone had to do this, for me to be here.

Looking around the room only solidifies that I'm here. I can't really tell where 'here' is though. I don't have windows to see outside, to see or feel any light. Even if that dangling bulb above me lets me glance at this room, it's not like I can do anything. With a heavy sigh, I lean my head back. Causing the pipe to echo throughout this empty room. A chuckle escapes my lips in amusement. Unbelievable , how I did I get here in the first place? Using my questions to help me relieve me of my boredom. I could try to get up but why? What's the point? If I leave without getting information, it's bound to happen again.

The hard ground is cold, refusing me any comfort. My muscles stiff from being locked in this stupid position for however long I was unconscious. I'm pretty sure it's been over 8 hours. I crane my head, turning left while stiffly tilting up, letting out a sharp crack from my neck. Listening to the sound. Just another echo breaking through the deathly silence. Chuckling once again, practically a scoff this time. Humans.

I can't help but think, once again, how humans are more than willing to do anything to get what they want. Me? I just did what I was told.

How else is someone supposed to survive in this society? That doesn't mean I don't think. Of course I think, I make my own conclusions. I just remain silent, no point in voicing out anything to anyone who doesn't want to listen. Just tell them what they want to hear, show them what they want to see. There are so few, who I have found that listen and respect my opinion. So just like that, I act as the unfortunate species I am... human.

A sound creaks, slowly. Breaking me out of my current thoughts. Echoing throughout the room, drawing my attention behind me. Even though I don't care enough to turn, I hear heavy rhythmic steps, echoing, getting closer with each noise. Again I could care less about my kidnaper. Why give them the pleasure?

I don't blink, just staring blankly ahead of me. Subtly, I smirk as they walk by not saying a word, only dropping it when they turn, facing me. Maybe they are looking at me, but not me. I just continue to stare ahead, refusing to see anything but empty space, not the dark blue jeans standing right in front of me. After all they don't exist. They could think I was blind for all I care.

After a while they walk off, again I refuse to fallow, not a turn of my head, nor a twitch of my eyes. Even when the echoes of the steps change into a nasty scraping noise. Metal grinding concrete. The noise was horrible, but not atrocious. if there weren't any marks in the concrete before there sure as hell would be now. Still, I refused to acknowledge it, even when it stopped. Six legs, four square skinny ones and two laced up in heavy black boots, standing right in front of me, clanking hard as they stopped.

I watched as a leg swung over, becoming a pattern of black, silver, silver, black; the only thing I let move, was my chest. Simply moving with every breath I take. Finally realizing they weren't going to leave, I let myself blink. They were too impatient and lazy to stand. This is becoming a war of wills, who would break first, me or them.

Finally I glance up at my opponent, noticing how pale her skin is in contrast to her pitch black hair. If I didn't know any better I'd say she looked emo or gothic. I wasn't one to judge, even if her style wasn't to my taste. She studied me as I studied her. I would have hoped that fair would be fair, except I was cuffed to this stupid pipe. There's no way in hell, I'm going to back down. If I was anything, I was be stubborn. That was my strength, my weakness and possibly it would be my down fall at some point.

"Talk" the woman said. Crossing her arms over the back of the chair, leaning in. Probably wanting to watch my every move.

So I decided to reward her, giving her a reaction she so desperately wanted at this point. I raised my eyebrow, 'About what?' I asked the silent question.

Exasperated, she sighs heavily, her right hand rubbing her face before falling, back to the chair. "What can you tell me about Kilgrave?"

I just rolled my eyes. This woman should really quit her day job. "He's a man." I deadpanned.


	2. Testing the Waters

Ch 2 Testing the Waters

_Exasperated,_ _she_ _sighs_ _heavily,_ _her_ _right_ _hand_ _rubbing_ _her_ _face_ _before_ _falling,_ _back_ _to_ _the_ _chair._ _"What_ _can_ _you_ _tell_ _me_ _about_ _Kilgrave?"_

_I_ _just_ _rolled_ _my_ _eyes._ _This_ _woman_ _should_ _really_ _quit_ _her_ _day_ _job._ _"He's_ _a_ _man."_ _I_ _deadpanned._

—

I took pleasure in the way she fumed. The simple way her scowl seem to form on her face. Becoming deeper every nano second, the way her eyebrows scrunched together, eyes blazing in pure hate.

"I know he's a man!" She shouted, suddenly throwing the previous metal chair that is now scrap, that smashed gruesomely against the wall. The concrete wall cracking from the impact, the old familiar sound of destruction.

I could see why Kilgrave likes her. I was starting to, too. Her reactions were over board and entertaining. It was too bad I couldn't record this for him.

Still I didn't smile. Nor did I flinch, but a blink might have gotten away from me. I watch as that twisted face came closer and closer, every step echoing in pure rage, clashing along the ground. This wasn't scary, not at all. If anything it was a mild version of what I went through as a child. I'm already used to it.

The closer she came the stronger a certain smell got. One that I hated, but would never give the pleasure of anyone knowing. 'Ah. ...She's drunk.' I don't know if she was drunk before or after she got me, but it's not like it matters. Once again I am dealing with an angry drunk, heh it seems to be my miserable life's calling.

Sigh...I miss him. I miss his touch. His arms around my waist, holding me for comfort. Mine or his... I never really asked. I didn't want to. It brought me comfort, that's good enough for me. ...It's the only gentle touch I've ever known, so I don't care how I got it. Even if it was just for him.

A sudden jerk and I feel tightness around my chest, collar and the back of my neck. This is so familiar... the strength, the underling threat, the wretched smell of potent whiskey and of course the 'in your face' death grip. If I wasn't cuffed to the pole, I'm pretty sure I'd be meeting an old acquaintance, well more like an old friend with how much I get rammed into him. It's not his fault I've broken a few bones, just that bastard who threw me. "Where is he?!" She hissed at me.

Still staring at her, dead in the eye, I tilt my head slightly to the left, then glance. Returning my gaze to her, "He's here." I mutter.

Her eyes flash fear before quickly looking behind her. She's pretty easy to read, then again a lot of people are for me. I could feel her grip tighten as she returned her gaze to me, the fear turned to anger. Her emotions now directed at me, not Kilgrave. Good.

"You think this is funny?!" She bellows in rage.

"Do you want me to?"

Rage. It doesn't let people think. It makes them act first. It lets me know _Who_ they are, not what they want me to see. Just like right now. A simple taunt. Just one question, was enough to get slammed into the ground. Internally I cringe, only half expecting the amount of pain. Definitely a dunks temper. I sigh, looking bored while secretly relieving the pain.

Looking up, I gauge her reaction. Her eyes are shut, biting her bottom lip, and she's taking deep even breaths. Trying to regain control. I catch myself smirking, before quickly returning to my blank face. _'She_ _really_ _brings_ _out_ _the_ _best_ _in_ _us,_ _doesn't_ _she_ _Kilgrave?'_

"You're under his control." She concludes in a huff. Only proving how little she knows about us. She stands up straight, looking tall and determined. Her eyes straight ahead, before turning them on me, "We'll talk when you're 12 hours are up." Satisfied, she walks away. Out the door, never looking back.

Funny how she doesn't realize she handed me some pretty good information on a silver platter. It hasn't been that long since I've been gone. Now I just need to use that _time _to my advantage.

Quietly I listen, a small buzz going off every couple seconds. So I start counting, *_zzzz_* ... ... ... *_zzzz_* ... ... ... *_zzzz_*, regular intervals, good. Now I could keep track of time. The time I was out, will tell me how far I've been taken, easy when you know this city.

After preparing a bit, all I had to do now was wait. Wait for the final piece to click into place.

Even with all the patience I learned wasn't enough to keep my thoughts of Kilgrave away. Was he okay? Safe? Worried about me? Is he even looking for me right now? Maybe he wasn't, maybe he didn't notice how long I've been gone.

Even if he didn't, even if he wasn't look for me, I would go to him. I would always go home, to him, my home. He wasn't always my home, he _became_ my home. The one place I could always go to. The one place I could feel safe.

A place I could _finally_ call my own.

—


	3. The First Time

Ch 3 The First Time

I've always _liked_ watching others. It's helped me pass the time over the long years of my life when I had to live at... _that_ place. Helping me survive _them_. _Learn_ by watching. That's how I _had_ to live. Watch, learn, live, ..._survive_.

Growing up in that house, all I knew was pain, blame, yelling, _pain_, hate, rage... I didn't _know_ anything else. I thought _everyone_ had to survive to live. That this was _normal_. This is the way _everyone_ lived. I _accepted_ what I was given, what I lived with. It simply was _all_ I knew. Everyday a routine of beatings, constant pain, yelling. I _never_ liked it, but it was normal.

They _liked_ to watch me as I screamed. They _laughed_ at the sound of my bones breaking. Their eyes, smiling in joy _every_ time I cried. Seeming _happy_ every time my face shifted in pain. Hitting me more every time I _begged_, pleading for them to stop. Words only made it _worse_. Crying made it _worse_. _Feeling_, made it _worse_. It hurt, it hurt so _damn_ much, but I lived. I was living and _breathing_, so everything was fine, _everything_ was as it should be. So I just _...stopped_.

I stopped _crying_. Stopped _begging_. Forcing the pain not to show. I _taught _myself how to survive. I _learned_ how to read their faces, a simple _twitch_ of their shoulder, a certain _flare_ in their eyes, a _spike_ in their voice. I learned what to do when I saw the signs. I watched as they slowly pulled their attentions _elsewhere_, drugs, TV, drama, _whiskey_. How was _I_ to know this was _wrong? _That not everyone lived in pain and fear? _Fear_ of saying the wrong thing, setting _them_ off with _just_ a simple look?

It wasn't until I walked out of that house for the first time, that I _saw_ the world. This _cruel_ and unfair _world_. They were _cruel_. Letting me out of that house only to show me what '_normal_' was. They wanted their _fun_ back. I swear they planned it. They _doomed _me to school.

The problem wasn't the learning. _No,_ it was _everything_ else. From the first girl who '_cheerily_' talked to me smiling, only to frown when I only watched waiting _patiently_ for pain, to the teacher asking for introductions. Why as everyone just so... _happy?_ Why _didn't_ the teacher hit us? _Hit_ those that didn't _listen, _the ones that _talked_ back, who _didn't_ do what they were told? It didn't _make_ sense_. _It just wasn't _fair!_

Still, I listened. Keeping quiet _both_ at the house and at school, I _watched_. Everything they did at school, I couldn't do. I wasn't _allowed _to do. If I did that in front of _them_ I'd be lucky if I could breathe easy the next day. If anyone asked them _questions _..._He _would show me just how _loved _I was. While _she_ blamed me. How was it _my_ fault he ...did _that_. It became even _worse_ when school taught me just how _wrong_ it was.

Once again I had to become _numb_ to survive, to somehow make it _bearable. _Hiding behind lies to make _that_ house survivable, to make the school life tolerable. School became a deep place of _learning_. Unlike the _other_ kids, I learned _more_ than science, reading and math. I learned _lies_. I learned how to lie to others to be _normal, _to _act_ normal, to have a _loving_ ...'_family'. _I didn't learn _soon_ enough.

I never had any friends. That's okay, I never _needed_ any friends. Luckily, I learned how to avoid enemies from my ..._'parents'. _I knew what _not_ to do, panic, scream, _react. _If I was _boring_ most would leave me alone. There were still a few who came but I could tolerate those, but they were the reason I avoided the bus, which I was actually grateful for. It took longer, _much _longer to get back. I had _breathing_ time. I was numb enough that _watching_ no longer bothered me now. I could watch others live their life, _enjoy_ their lives, _laughing_ and _smiling_ without a care in the world. I tried to smile. I _tried_ to feel that joy others seemed to feel. It never happened. Scared a few birds away though, might have been to close.

Being numb allowed me to _'enjoy'_ watching, passing time to avoid going there. Ended up finding a few fighting places, they let me watch. I watched the master to see what to do. I watched the students try, fail, and succeed. I learned tricks and motions of fighting, but to know if I had it down, I had to _practice_. Another way to spend time, why waste it? All of New York was at my disposal, an ally here, a hidden spot in the park there. I learned, I tried, I failed, I mixed moves. I ended up hungrier by the end, but that wasn't anything an open dumpster wouldn't fix. It was _easy_ to lie when I got caught. Playing the lost child in an ally, a child who lost a toy by playing or being bullied. Crying was _easy _to control. Silent tears seemed to play at the hearts of women the most, got a few cookies and milk one time.

It's funny how useful my _lessons_ are. They've _always_ kept me alive. From little tricks, to lies, even combat. _If _they never attacked me, I wouldn't have avoided the bus, never would have walked, never would have been forced to _watch, _never have learned to fight. It _felt _good. For the _first_ time in my life, I had _Power_. I was _in control_. Nobody ever believed them. How could a weak, _quiet_ girl ever _beat _three boys? I kept _them _from finding out, it would get _worse_ I had to _bide _my time. I had to plan if I wanted to end this. I had to _learn,_ wait, then _act. _I now _knew_ what I could do, with a few extra bruises I made my way to a park I frequently visited. Be that always made me feel good. A great place to people watch.

Watching ment learning. Learning ment _power._ Going over to the swings, I sat down and started exercising and watching. A way I found to train, to _look _normal while working on multitasking. Surprisingly it became a short period where I could _be _normal too. A nice bonus. I could even practice high landings, rolls, dodging, and air maneuvers. I guess I just... found my _place_ in that park, especially after that fight. While jumping, my eyes caught a flash of purple. A very unusual color. Normally I'd see little girls wearing a light _happy _purple, but not this one. _This_ one was a very _dark,_ ..._deep_ purple. I rolled my landing to get a better look, ending up with my left hand on the ground, crouching as if I had to jump up and run at a moments notice, before _gently_ standing up so as not to draw attention. The kids and parents of this park were used to my mini tricks, it didn't bother them.

I dusted off my pants, patting away at them, watching from the corner of my eye. Glancing at the man sitting on a park bench, shaded under a tree, away from the hustle. The man is his purple suit, hunched over, elbows resting on his legs, while his chin rested in his hands, supporting his head as he watched. His hair seemed to be lighter than mine, when the leaves rusted in the wind. His eyes, dark and deep just like his suit. A scruff on his face, seemingly out of place in a park where clean shaven dad's and businessmen seem to roam happily. Honestly, I found him to be quite handsome and a _very_ much needed breath of a relief from all the _happiness._

After a little bit, I stood up and straightening myself, turning to look directly at this man, seeing how he would react. Our eyes met, staring at each other, for what seemed like hours. Until he smirked, seeming satisfied. I was confused internally, while not changing my expression, I nodded my head in acknowledgment to the man, before turning around back to the swing, not missing his slight surprised expression. Let it be said, I have manners unlike _others. _I _refused_ to be _anything _like them, unless I needed to be. Sitting down on my swing I turned to face him again, only to find he was gone. A bit disappointed I continued my training, before I moved on.

Walking back home in high spirits was a nice change. I wanted to remember this day, the _power_ I felt. How my knowledge let me bend a _few_ things. How the handsome devil watched under a tree, like he had the world in the palm of his hand. I liked it. After thinking a bit, I turned into a store, grabbed an item and walked out. I would've paid if I had the money, but anything I got or found ended up in _their _hands. I wanted this _one_ thing, just one.

Going into an empty public restroom a few blocks over and down, I locked the door and walked to the sink. Glancing at the dark, brown haired, lightly pale girl in the mirror before reading the directions of the black tube in my hand.

This was the day.

_The _day, I would _change_.

The day I would take a stand. I would _rebel. _I knew _they _would give me hell once they saw it. It would be worth it, to remember this day. Grabbing a strip of hair on my left side, I made my move.

Dying it that _dark, deep _color. Changing it the color of _power. _

_The color of the Purple Devil. _  
_Hidden in plain sight._


End file.
